


Living In A City Of Death

by afteriwake



Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-28
Updated: 2012-10-28
Packaged: 2017-11-17 06:22:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/548562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>London belonged to the dead now. Will Amy’s good friend come save them, or is all hope lost for the current residents of 221B Baker Street?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Living In A City Of Death

**Author's Note:**

> This is my last entry for the contest at **wholockians** in the lyrics section (I may have already used this set of lyrics before, but it was inspired by _I cannot explain to you / And anything I say or do / I hope the actions speak the words they can_ ) and is also my solitary entry to the Spook Me Ficathon.

London belonged to the dead. It was Halloween now, a day that normally would have been spent with children going from door to door asking for candy, but now involved those left in the city trying to fend for their very lives.

The current occupants of 221B Baker Street had been in the place for a week. It wasn’t just Sherlock, John and Mrs. Hudson there. There were three others, a married couple named Rory and Amy Williams and an enigmatic woman named River Song. John had met them on his last run for supplies. They’d had supplies of their own, and weapons as well, and that was the only reason he’d let them come with him. Sherlock hadn’t liked the decision, but Mrs. Hudson had pleaded their case so they’d been allowed to stay.

Rory and River had guns and other weaponry which Sherlock and John did not. They had some weaponry that didn’t even appear to be of this era, some futuristic things that River assured him would work better than traditional guns and ammunition. They’d had their first chance to see how it worked when three of the zombies approached the home. Rory went to the second floor, took careful aim, and pulled the trigger. A laser blast went out, one two three, and took each of them out. Only then did Sherlock accept them there.

Well, rather, he accepted Rory and River. Amy could shoot the gun too, and did, but there were arguments between the three of them in heated whispers of a mysterious Doctor who would come save them. Apparently Rory and River had given up on him coming and Amy still held out hope. Those arguments grated on everyone’s nerves, and today, a week after they were all holed up together, it came to a head.

“He’s not coming,” Rory said quietly, his voice just slightly above a whisper. “It’s been over a week. If he hasn’t shown up by now he’s never coming, or else we’ll be dead before he gets here.”

“He _has_ to, Rory. We’re his friends. He wouldn’t just leave us to this fate.” She wasn’t looking at her husband, instead training her eyes outside to look at the door. “You have to have faith.”

“You know I don’t have faith,” he replied. Then he dropped his voice lower, but Sherlock could still hear him. “You know when we were at the hotel all I saw were exits. If I’d had faith in anything, I would have had a room. That thing would have come after me.”

“But you believe in him,” she said.

“Not anymore,” he said.

“He’ll come. I know it.” Rory sighed and went back to River. Sherlock watched. The relationship between the three of them was strange. It was more familial than anything else, as though Amy and Rory were the parental units and River was their child. It couldn’t possibly be that way, but that was how they acted nonetheless. 

After Rory had left, Sherlock went to Amy. “Your friend isn’t coming. You might as well face it. Humanity is lost.”

“He’s coming,” she replied. “And what would you know? You don’t even know him.”

“Your friend is apparently very special. He has ways of travelling that are unusual, and he has a penchant for fixing problems. If he really considered this a fixable problem he’d have arrived by now. He’s turned his back on you.”

He felt the slap before he’d registered that she’d done it. He blinked once, then looked at her. She was glaring at him, and he stared back. “He’ll come.”

“He won’t. Holding onto this fantasy will cause everyone harm.” He turned his back and went back to where he’d been sitting. He had chosen to sit by the other window and keep a lookout on the street, so he was looking when it happened. A small horde of the zombies came from the street on his left. “Do you see them?” he asked Amy.

“I see them,” she said with a nod, getting the laser gun. He also had a more futuristic weapon, one that sent out pulses of energy which seemed to blast the zombies to bits. They both took aim and began to fire. Just when they got done with the first group a second appeared. “There’s so many,” she replied.

“Just make sure you get them all,” he said. They both kept firing, even as Rory, River and John joined them. Suddenly they heard a sound on the roof, and both Amy and Sherlock paused in their shooting for a moment. “What is that?” he asked.

“It’s my friend,” Amy said with a grin.

“It could be more of them,” John said. “We’ve locked the windows on the side, and the roof access.”

“Take this and check the roof,” Sherlock said, handing John a smaller energy weapon.

“I’ll go with you,” River said, pulling out her own personal weapon. John nodded and the two left. Amy and Sherlock went back to shooting the zombies as they got in their line of sight, and Rory paced. Finally ten minutes later not two but three people came back from the roof: River, John and a man Sherlock didn’t recognize. But Amy and Rory did, as Amy went away from the window and hugged him tightly. “It’s her friend,” River said to Sherlock as he watched.

“I am terribly terribly sorry,” he replied. “I had to go get Martha and Mickey and Sarah Jane and Jo and as many of my old companions as I could, as well as their families and in a few cases close friends who’d managed to hang on. Not all of them survived, but most did. They’re in the TARDIS, and I’m going to take them someplace safe while I fix this.”

“Why wait so long for us?” Rory asked. “There’s been an outbreak for two weeks.”

“I knew if anyone could survive it would be the both of you, and if history books had changed because of this River would have found you eventually,” the Doctor replied. He looked over at John and Sherlock. “I have room, for the both of you.”

“Somewhere safe?” John asked. The Doctor nodded. “We have a third person to bring, Mrs. Hudson.”

“Bring her as well,” the Doctor said. “Anyone who helped keep my friends safe is more than welcome.”

“Excellent,” John said. “Perhaps you should explain it all to Sherlock while I go fetch her.”

“Very well,” the Doctor said. He turned to Sherlock. “I’m an alien, from the planet Gallifrey. I travel through space and time. I’ve known Amy and Rory for a long time, and they’ll vouch for me. My TARDIS is on the roof.”

Sherlock’s mind was reeling. He didn’t want to believe the man, but Amy and Rory seemed to not blink an eye, and whatever it was John had seen, he’d probably believed the same story. And if this man could take them to safety… “I’m not sure if I believe you, but I’ll go with you,” he replied as John came into the room with Mrs. Hudson.

“Excellent! Gather your things. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to bring the weapons, though I do rather detest guns. How did you get them, anyway?”

“River,” Rory and Amy chorused. 

Their friend turned to River, who gave him a beatific smile. “I had to make sure my family was safe. When the history books started changing and I realized they were living in the epicenter I brought them weaponry. I would have taken them somewhere safe but my vortex manipulator stopped working and I haven’t been able to fix it.”

“But guns?” he asked, his face pained.

“How else are you supposed to take care of zombies from a distance?” she said, patting his cheek. “All right, I suppose we get going. I bet that horde of zombies outside the door has continued to grow.”

“Very well. Up to the roof!” the Doctor said. The seven of them went up into the attic, then up to the roof. Sherlock was surprised to see a blue police phone booth on the roof, and when the Doctor got towards it he snapped his fingers and the door opened. He stepped inside and Amy, Rory and River followed. John, Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson lingered outside for a moment before John straightened his shoulders and walked in. Mrs. Hudson and Sherlock followed.

It was much larger inside than the outside suggested. Sherlock looked around, surprised. And then the Doctor came up to him and he turned his attention to the console. There were other people there that he didn’t recognize, and neither did the Williams family or River. The Doctor began making introductions as he fiddled with the controls. Martha Smith-Jones, Mickey Smith, Jo Grant, Sarah Jane Smith…the children and teenagers he didn’t remember because there were so many. The Doctor told Amy to start showing them to rooms so they could get comfortable, and while John and Mrs. Hudson went with her Sherlock stayed. Soon it was just him and the Doctor. “Don’t you want to get comfortable?” the Doctor asked him after a moment.

“I want to help fix the problem,” he said.

The Doctor grinned at him. “The great Sherlock Holmes, always looking for a mystery to solve. All right, you can help solve the problem. I definitely appreciate the help. Very well, let’s go to the study and begin sorting things out and figure out just where it all went haywire, and if there’s anything we can do to fix things.”

Sherlock nodded. “Very well.”

“Let’s get started then,” he replied. “To the study!” And with that the Doctor left the console room with Sherlock close behind. Sherlock hoped that they could find a solution and actually fix things, or else all of humanity would be lost.


End file.
